


A Smile Which is Lost on His Lips

by jiffyfetch



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:31:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2691326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiffyfetch/pseuds/jiffyfetch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey can't quite figure out how to make his Spotify history private.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Smile Which is Lost on His Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exoskeletons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exoskeletons/gifts).



Anger management is a fuckin joke. Mickey would never be caught dead here - he doesn't have a god damn anger problem, okay? Sure he's violent and curses more than a sailor in a bar fight, but that's just what living in the South Side would do to any sane person. Just cause some idiot judge tells him to go doesn't mean he will. Only Ian said if he didn't go he wouldn't be able to get a hummer for months. So he goes.

On one of many let's-eat-donuts-and-drink-coffee-like-fuckin-police-officers breaks, Mickey sneaks outside for a smoke. A blond girl he recognizes from the group smiles at him.

"Court ordered?" she asks, grinning at him and holding out a joint.

He takes a hit, grateful.

"Yeah. I wasn't gonna come but-"

"But your girlfriend made you," she finishes for him.

"Boyfriend, actually," he grimaces, the words still foreign on his tongue. "But yeah. Why you here?"

"Slammed my bitch mother's head into a table. She threatened to kick me out if I didn't come and I'm dead ass broke."

"Yeah? You learn anything useful in this shithole?" Mickey is starting to feel lighter, happier. Her weed is actually pretty good.

"Music," she grins.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Music," she repeats, even though it made no fuckin sense the first time. "I listen to music when I get angry and it calms me down."

"Oh yeah?" Mickey replies, hands starting to grow numb from the cold. "And what magical music do you listen to?"

"Edith Piaf."

Mickey has no idea who or what Edith Piaf is. He's never been very into music - that's like some kind of dumbass faux pas or something but he doesn't really give a shit. Still, as he climbs on the bus on his way home, he needs something to drown out the crazy bitch yelling at the bus driver in Spanish or Italian or some other useless European language. He plugs in his headphones but his music library only has Beyonce and Cher - some stupid joke that Mandy played on him years ago and he was too lazy to delete. He's gay but he's not like  _gay_ gay.

He opens up Spotify and types in Edith Piaf. It takes him a while to get the spelling right. He hits the top track and blasts it. The lyrics are all in French and it's weird and old-timey and super fucking girly. He closes his eyes and listens anyway.

******

When he gets home, Mandy and Ian are lying on the floor and laughing like idiots.

"What's so fuckin funny?" he asks when they laugh even harder once they see him.

"Mick," Ian gasps through his giggles, "you know your Spotify stuff is, like, public right? It all posts on Facebook. Everyone can see it."

"And?"

"And," Mandy laughs, "you were listening to  _French_ music for an hour and a half."

"Oh God," Ian gasps, "I've turned you into a fairy."

"Shut the fuck up, both of ya."

******

Mickey wakes up at 3 AM, freezing cold. The blankets have been pushed off of the bed and Ian's not there. He sleepwalks sometimes, and Mickey stands up, groaning, to look for him. 

The house is dark except for the kitchen, where Mandy strung up some Christmas lights a week ago. They're plugged in now, casting a dim glow over Ian. He's making an omelet, humming and swaying slightly as he cooks. Mickey realizes that there's music playing faintly, so quiet he didn't notice at first.

"What are listening to?"

Ian startles and turns around, trying to shove his phone into his pocket. Mickey grabs it before he can, looking at the screen and recognizing the vintage cover art. Ian's been listening to Edith Piaf. 

"No way," Mickey chuckles. "I've turned you into a fairy."

"Oh shut up," Ian snaps, snatching the phone back and turning the music up.

Mickey grabs his hands, smiling as Ian leans his head against his shoulder. The sway there together, not really dancing but doing something pretty close.

The omelet burns. Neither of them really cares.

 

 

__

_With eyes which make mine lower,_   
_A smile which is lost on his lips,_   
_That's the unembellished portrait_   
_Of the man to whom I belong._

_When he takes me in his arms_   
_He speaks to me in a low voice,_   
_I see life as if it were rose-tinted._

_He whispers words to declare to me his love_   
_Words of the everyday_   
_And that does something to me._

_He has entered into my heart_   
_A piece of happiness_   
_the cause of which I know full well._

_It's him for me, me for him in life_   
_He said that to me, swore to me "forever"._

_And as soon as I see him_   
_So I feel in me_   
_My heart which beats_

_May the nights on which we make love never end,_   
_A great joy which takes its place_   
_The trouble, the grief are removed_   
_Content, content to die of it_

_When he takes me in his arms_   
_He speaks to me in a very low voice,_   
_I see life as if it were rose-tinted._

_He whispers words to declare to me his love_   
_Words of the everyday_   
_And that does something to me._

_He has entered into my heart_   
_A piece of happiness_   
_the cause of which I recognise._

_It's him for me, me for him in life_   
_He said that to me, swore to me forever._

_And as soon as I see him_   
_So do I feel in me_   
_My heart which beats_

Damn, Mickey thinks, that's really gay.


End file.
